


Compromise

by drinkbloodlikewine



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-08
Updated: 2014-04-08
Packaged: 2018-01-18 14:33:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1432039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drinkbloodlikewine/pseuds/drinkbloodlikewine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The country mouse and the city mouse, trying to make things work after fleeing Baltimore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Compromise

Baltimore sounded like bass, not birds. One of those differences that Will couldn’t have anticipated.

It was an entire story he couldn’t have anticipated, really. Framed for murder, accomplice to an attempt - famed FBI investigator to fugitive felon in a few easy steps.

But when they fled together to the little house on the bayou, he hadn’t considered how different they might actually be once their admittedly pressing need for freedom had been met.

Will never really listened to music at home - too distracting, too hard not to focus on it - and Hannibal had always played soft chamber music and concertos that perfectly overlaid the refinement of their setting.

He was gone now, though. Or rather, they were. And the rap thumping from the driveway had startled any of the late-summer birds away that Will had wistfully imagined he’d be able to hear once they’d cleared the city and headed south.

Will had found himself daydreaming during their escape of a quiet life by the water - fishing, maybe, to make ends meet, or repairing motors since Matthew was good with his hands, too. He hadn’t expected that he’d be bringing a city mouse into the country with him, let alone one that he found out to be a full decade younger than himself.

The screen door snapped shut behind him and gravel crunched beneath his bare feet as he approached the old truck, Matthew’s legs sticking out from beneath it.

“It’s a little loud,” Will remarked mildly.

No response.

He sighed, equally unheard, and pushed his hair back out of his face. The dogs were playing through the tall grasses a short distance out, chasing each other through hidden pools of water. Insects filled the air - he’d be able to hear them humming through the humidity if not for the bass that rumbled out of the speakers.

“Matt,” he tried again. He prodded Matthew’s leg with his toes, enough to get his attention, and the younger man pushed himself out from beneath the truck. Dust clung to his once-pale skin, now darkened with dirt and sweat and oil the same color of his tattoos.

“What’s up?” he asked, half-shouting over the music.

“You can’t come in like that,” Will said, shocked.

“What?” asked Matt again. “Hang on.” He pushed himself up off the ground, all muscle glistening beneath sweat and grime and a sleeveless shirt, the deep indentation of a newly healed scar embossed in his shoulder just visible. The silence was louder than the music had been when he switched it off.

Will exhaled a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. The wind caught in the low scrubby trees and the long grasses and all around them the world rustled peaceably. Matt slid an arm around Will’s waist and Will balked, laughing, away from him.

“Don’t do that,” he chided. “You’re filthy.”

“I’ve been working!”

“My father used to say that if you know what you’re doing, you should be able to come in from work and go right to dinner. Shouldn’t make that much of a mess unless you’re doing something wrong,” Will teased. He leaned in over the opened hood of the truck, squinting thoughtfully. “How’s it coming?”

“Transmission’s fucked.” Despite his warning, Matthew grabbed Will around the waist with remarkably strong arms and pushed him forward against the front of the old pickup. Will closed his eyes and when Matthew heard his defeated sigh he grinned against the back of his neck, victorious.

“Not sure it’s worth it to put a new one in,” Will said, trying not to let Matthew notice the color that rose in his cheeks at being bent over the old engine.

His abs were like a wall against Will’s back as he rolled his hips forward just a little, grinding against him once. “Maybe we just need to unfuck it,” he murmured against his skin, kissing hotly across the sweat that gathered there.

“It’s - wait, what does that even mean?” asked Will, laughing as he tried to twist out of Matthew’s grip, unable to do so. He leaned his back against the truck and Matthew pinned him there easily, leaning into him with all his weight. Matthew’s kiss was rough, insistent, and Will felt his protest weaken beneath Matthew’s presence, young and fierce and overpowering in all the ways that made that particular part of his stomach twist up in joyous knots. The nearest neighbors were miles away but he still drew a sharp embarassed breath as Matthew’s hands slid up beneath the edge of the old shirt he’d thrown on, loose and mostly unbuttoned in the heat.

He tilted his head and let the younger man move to his neck, shifting awkwardly as he felt Matthew start to pry at his pants. “So do you,” he tried to speak, laughing shyly, “so do you want help with this, or -“

“No,” Matthew responded firmly. He slid a hand back along Will’s scruffy jaw, up into his hair, nothing but sweat and a few thin layers of clothes between them. “No, I want to fix it for you.”

He smiled crookedly, “That’s really nice of you but honestly, I’m very good with -“

“Let me do this,” Matthew said, catching Will’s mouth beneath his own again. Summer gathered around them, sunlight and warmth and so far from everything that had fallen down all around them in another place, another time, another life. Eager to prove himself, he broke away from Will with a few quick, reluctant parting kisses. The stereo switched back on and the thud of bass and harsh voices crowded the air again.

He’d learn to live with it, he knew, turning to walk back to the house and smiling in secret at the metallic hint of oil still fresh on his lips. Matt couldn’t be more different than Hannibal, and Will couldn’t have been more glad.


End file.
